


Silence, Storm.

by mculadyloki



Series: Silence [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, BAMF Loki (Marvel), BAMF Thor (Marvel), Gen, Good Loki, I really really hate Thanos, I'm Sorry, Loki (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Loki wasn't the bad guy in The Avengers, Mute Loki, no im not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 20:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18763222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mculadyloki/pseuds/mculadyloki
Summary: Thor was not an idiot.





	Silence, Storm.

 

Thor was not an idiot.

 

Contrary to the widespread belief, the Crown Prince of Asgard was not completely unintelligent. Arrogant? Yes. Foolish? Also yes. Reckless? Verily. But idiotic? Nay, not idiotic. 

He was not ignorant of the rumors of his brother. The whispers about him. 

( _ ergi, argr. Cowardly, weak. Why does he use magic? _ )

( _ Silent _ .)

 

Always silent. Never a word, never a sound. Completely mute.

The silence had haunted Thor for many years. Thousands of years. 

No, Thor was not an idiot. 

 

And because he wasn’t an idiot, perhaps, he blamed himself for his brother’s silence. 

Thor was well aware of his role in his brother’s… difference. ( _Does it make sense now? Loki is- was- Jotunn. A mon_ -) His time on Midgard had taught him many things about himself. He learned that no, Loki was not the only silent person. There were those on Midgard who did not speak as well, and yet they weren’t considered broken.

( _Madness, Oddity.    Silence._ )

 

The silence that shrouded Asgard, even more intently than it had while Loki-

While Loki-

While Loki was still alive.

Thor had always been bright, full of life. Where Loki was the moon (cold, calm, collected. silent), Thor had been the sun (warm, boisterous, eager. Loud). And yet. After Loki’s… fall (Thor would never admit that he let go, not even to himself) the Thunder god was subdued.

 

He often found himself freezing, staring vacantly at that spot, the one where Loki would curl up with his books (his beloved books) and glare if Thor dared to interrupt. His raised eyebrow speaking louder than words themselves. 

 

“ _ Don’t you have another one of your foolish quests to go on, Brother? _ ”

 

Behind the pillar, where Loki had run as a child to escape the court, the whispers, and rumors. While Thor had never understood his brother’s silence (he thought at first it was a trick. It wasn’t.) he knew that the rest of Asgard was even less kind to the youngest of the Odinsons. 

On the balcony where Loki would sit and watch the stars for hours upon end. 

 

But now, Thor would never again see his baby brother. He was gone, and it was Thor’s fault. 

 

Time passed in a haze for the Crown Prince of Asgard. Days spent with his mother in her garden, nights spent tossing and turning in the sheets (not even gods are immune to nightmares). 

Soon days turned to weeks and eventually months. 

 

His world was soon infused with joy and hope with the sparse words his father spoke:

“Your brother is on Midgard. Bring him and the Tesseract back.”

 

The Thunderer had never moved as swiftly towards the Bifrost in his entire life.

 

He could barely fathom what happened as he sped through the city. People were a blur, all he could hear was the ringing in his ears, the sound of his own elevated heartbeat. Tears stung in his eyes. His brother- his little brother- was alive? 

Yes, Loki had actions he needed to repent for (Jotunheim, betraying Asgard’s throne, almost killing his own father..), but he was yet Thor’s brother. 

Only one thought was there in the forefront of his mind with a searing clarity.

Loki will come home.

 

He found his brother on the mortal construct called an airplane. Though his first instinct was to immediately grab his brother and ignore the mortals, he knew this tactic would likely not be helpful. The ride in the craft was slow and silent, and other than the occasional glance at his brother, Thor was still as a stone. He had a growing feeling of wrong. 

( _ How would you know? You didn’t even save him when he- _ )

 

At first glance, his brother would seem the same as he’d always been, if a bit less pristine. But Thor had lived, fought beside and played beside his brother for thousands of years.

( _ He doesn’t consider himself your brother. You  _ failed _ him. _ )

 

He noticed the way his baby brother was constantly glancing around himself as if gauging his surroundings cautiously. He observed how Loki would zone out, and then abruptly snap back into reality with a jerk. Most curious of all, 

 

Loki’s eyes were blue. A clear, cold blue that honestly scared Thor. 

For the majority of his life, Loki had been mocked and teased for his differences from the rest of the Royal Family. His hair as black as the feathers of a raven, his lithe, lean body, and most strikingly, his forest green eyes. Those intense eyes had terrified many in Asgard, for if their striking glare was turned upon you, you were unlikely to escape the encounter unharmed. Mute though he may be, Thor’s brother had earned himself a reputation as a force to be reckoned with. And yet, they were now blue. Not quite unlike Thor’s own, if less warm and welcoming. Thor’s eyes crackled with electricity, where Loki’s were now glacial and cold. 

 

( _ How ironic. The Jotun runt has frozen eyes- No. Stop. He was your  _ brother _. _ ) 

 

When they arrived at the curious base (Thor had asked what it was and gotten the confusing response of “helicarrier”, whatever that may be), Thor was led into a room with the mortals. The red-haired woman (“Call me Agent Romanoff.”), Romanoff, brought in a brown, curly-haired man with glasses. Stark and the Captain (who had previously introduced themselves) sat on the couches and gestured for Thor to join them. 

Thor remained standing, anxious for news of his brother. When the man with the eyepatch stalked inside the room, he immediately turned to him. 

 

“What news have you of my brother?”

 

“Thor Odinson. I’m Director Fury of SHIELD. I understand you have met Agent Phil Coulson of SHIELD already. And honestly? I hope you’re a bit more concerned with the 80 murdered humans than that crazy ass motherfucker.” 

 

Thor’s hand went to Mjolnir. “Do you honestly believe that in my thousands of years of life I have killed less than eighty? Both my brother and I have been generals in many military campaigns. As princes, we are expected to be warriors. Now, what news have you of my brother, who has been missing for almost two years?”

 

Silence rang in the room. Apparently, the mortals had been expecting him to simply leave his brother to deal with this mess alone. Thor may be simplistic, but he was in no way an imbecile. He had spent years grieving his brother, years in which he had examined every memory in searing detail. 

 

This was not the first time one of them (read: Thor) had been in a similar position. Though his brother’s silence could have been a hindrance in negotiating, he had managed quite well. Thor remembered his tutors telling him as a child that paintings spoke a thousand words. He had retorted that Loki’s eyebrows likely spoke entire ballads.

 

“Well,” started Stark, his usual nonchalance slightly brittle in the face of Thor’s rage. “From what he’s said, -”

 

“Said? As in he spoke?” Thor inquired, heart racing. Hope laced with bitter confusion filled his chest. His brother had not spoken in seven centuries. Surely the mortals would be mistaken..?

 

“Uh… yeah? How else would he tell us-”

 

“Lord Stark,” Thor interjected, his voice for once quiet. “My brother has not spoken a word to anyone in over seven centuries. He is, for all purposes completely silent- mute. I have not heard his voice since I was around your mortal age of fifteen.” The mortals shared a collective glance, confusion evident on their faces. 

 

“But uh,” said the Captain, “Why would he start talking now? If he’s been mute for so long…” Thor frowned, eyes downcast. He almost seemed smaller, hunched up like that.

 

“I-I know not. My brother has faced many threats in his lifetime. Not once has he broken his silence. To think that something, someone has destroyed that vow, his own mind… it is troubling, to say the least.” 

 

“So you’re saying that, what, Loki isn’t actually the mastermind behind this?” asked the one who had been introduced as Banner.

“My brother has lived for thousands of years. He was named the god of intelligence by your ancestors and is renowned throughout the Nine for his keen mind. I can assure you that this… attack is not even remotely his first tactic. This invasion has been either quite poorly thought out, or the strategist behind it simply does not-” An expression of understanding dawned on the Asgardian’s face. 

 

“What is it?” asked Stark. “Why is your face doing that?”

 

“He doesn’t wish to succeed,” whispered Thor. 

The Thunderer whirled around and bolted towards the glass cage where his brother was being held. The Avengers jerked forward, SHIELD agents standing only to halt at Fury’s outheld hand. 

 

“Wait! I want to see where this goes. Avengers, follow him but do not interrupt.” The Avengers hurried after the thunder god.

  
  


“Brother.” came the almost reverend whisper from the thunder god. With one hand lightly touching the glass, Thor Odinson stared at his brother. Said brother was standing completely still, body rigid, hands clenched, -now blue-eyes closed. For a moment the world was silent, one brother completely oblivious to the anxious, sharp stare of the other. 

 

A sudden jerk of the younger’s body startled the elder. A minute tremor sped through Loki’s body, leaving his hands shaking as he stared at them, blue eyes unseeing. His eyes suddenly came into an intense focus, eyes boring into his hands. That loaded, dangerous, mad gaze was soon directed upon Thor, Loki’s head tilting while a sharp grin split his lips. 

 

“Why hello there… brother. How kind of you to finally drop by. Are you here to gloat? To mock? Perhaps the Odinson is simply put out that his favorite plaything finally grew a backbone?” The poisonous words would likely have spurred the Thunderer to a dangerous rage, had he been but a few years younger. Anger still filled Thor, but this time he knew it was not truly his younger brother speaking. Someone, something had taken control.

 

“Who are you?” Thor asked, looking fiercely at the shade of his brother.    
  


“Whatever do you mean, Odinson? I am the same as I have always been, past, present, and future. I shall stay unchanged, much like my namesake. The only difference, minute though it may be, is that I no longer beg like a starving dog for the meager scraps of Odin’s affection, Odinson. I am Loki, of Asgard. And I bow to no man.” Thor shook his head, sighing as he regarded the fake, the imposter.

 

“I’m afraid you shall have to do better than that. You are not my brother. For where I am the storm, Loki is chaos. He is always changing, always growing. His namesake is Loptr, god of fire. I know not what happened after he fell, but I know that you are not him. Now tell me: Who controls the would-be king?” For a moment Loki looked almost as if he would crumble, his expression fragile and vulnerable. Then a blank, solid mask slid into place and Thor watched as the last scraps of the brother he knew were hiding there disappeared. 

 

“Yes, it quite seems that you have changed, Odinson. But you misunderstand me. We- _ I _ have seen the light, have seen  _ real _ power. Asgard will fall to the might of the Titan, and there is little you or your pathetic team of mortals can do to stop us. First the earth,” A mad glint entered the cold, blue eyes. “And then the Nine. You will all burn.” 

 

Then the would-be conqueror of Earth whirled around and stood there, his dismissal clear. 

  
  
  


“Alrighty then. So old Reindeer Games isn’t fully, ya know,  _ there _ right now?” Tony Stark gestured to his temple, his head tilted quizzically at the thunder god. Thor scowled at the mortal’s disrespectful tone, but answered nonetheless.

 

“That is correct, Man of Iron. I believe Loki may also be under the scepters influence. His eyes are blue, where normally they would be green. And when he spoke, he said “we” instead of “I”. I-I think that his body is being... What is the word… ah! Possessed. Much like the Draugr, actually. Though hopefully not so severe.” 

 

“Great,” Steven Rogers sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So not only do we have an Asgardian Mussolini, we have an possessed Asgardian Mussolini? Can someone explain why exactly waking me up was a brilliant idea again?” The mortal Avengers were all seated at a circular table, discussing what they had realized during the failed interrogation of Thor’s brother. 

 

“I do not know what a Mussolini is, but yes, Captain Rogers. My brother is most certainly not himself.” Said Thor earnestly. Truly, the anomaly that was his brother would never have behaved in such an manner. In all the years that Thor had known Loki, he had been calm, collected, cynical and strategic. The hurried way in which he had ended their interaction only strengthened the thunder god’s theory. The true Loki would likely have scoffed at this imposter, making it clear that his thoughts were something along the lines of:  _ amateur _ .

 

After what seemed like hours to Thor, Lady Romanoff raised her hand to her ear and, after a few loaded seconds, raised one immaculate eyebrow. 

 

“I… see. And, are you sure this would work on the target?” With all eyes regarding her intensely, the Agent of SHIELD mouthed to the others; We have Barton. 

 

“Great. Thanks and I’ll be in the Med-Bay as soon as I can be.” She lowered her hand and looked at Thor directly in his hopeful, pained eyes. 

 

“We can save him.”

 

( **You are my brother and my friend-**

**_-never_ ** **doubt that I love you** )

  
  


The plan was simple enough: Thor would enter the cell and hit Loki with his hammer, effectively giving him cognitive recalibration, and hopefully ending the control of the scepter, as it had with Agent Barton. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

So of course, something went wrong.

 

Loki. Wouldn’t. Fall. Asleep.

He simply took hit after hit, slumping in the hold of Agent Romanoff and Captain Rogers, as Thor started to falter. He knew that Jotuns were quite sturdy and indestructible, but this seemed like a strike the Norns made against Thor personally.  _ You only cause him pain and misery _ , they seemed to say. Blood was soaking his brother’s face, yet he grinned, sly and dangerous and deadly back up at his captors. Thor’s eyes were watering, and finally, finally, with one last blow, the younger’s blue eyes fluttered shut and he fell, limp and seemingly lifeless, to the cold, glass, floor. 

  
  


When Loki awoke, his eyes were forest green. 

 

From what Thor had seen of mortal “movies” (courtesy of the lady Darcy), the unconscious person always seemed to awaken dramatically, eyes suddenly opening and immediately sitting up. It had always seemed unrealistic to him. Too smooth, too clean. 

 

When Loki awoke, it was slow.  

 

His awakening was familiar, to Thor. As a child and even as a young adult, Loki had gotten ill. Terrible illnesses that would leave him unconscious for days, even months at a time. Thor had sat by his bedside, reading his precious books to him, talking with their mother and occasionally simply sitting there in silence.

 

Loki stirred, hands twitching as he slowly broke through the hazy fog of sleep. His eyes opened, and they were forest green once more.

 

After a few minutes of initial confusion, Loki finally seemed to understand that no; none would harm him and yes; he had finally broken free of the scepter’s influence. He sighed and slumped to lean on his brother, who was seated on the bed beside him. The thunderer wrapped his muscled arm around his brother. 

 

“You should rest, brother. I am sure that the mortals can wait a few hours.”

 

Loki closed his eyes as both relished in the familiar comfort of his brother.

As he began to fall into the bliss of sleep, he whispered his final words for quite a long time.

“ _ Thank you _ .”

 

As Thor’s brother slept on, the Thunderer closed his eyes as a single tear escaped them.

  
  
  


The next time that the mortals assembled in the conference room, multiple hours later, they had two extras with them. 

One was Agent Clint Francis Barton (Codename: Hawkeye, according to the mortal leader, the Furious One), while the other was Loki Friggason (as he had demanded he be called. His precise words were, though transmitted through Thor; “ _ If another bastard King claims me as his son, I may actually kill myself, and this time it’ll work. The only person in the world who may claim a parental tie to me is Frigga, or so help the Norns I will stab someone _ .” and no one wanted to argue with him, not even Thor.)

 

When Loki had walked in, all petty conversations had immediately ceased, four pairs of accusing, borderline angry eyes had snapped to the fallen god who stood tall and proud, back straight, hands clasped in front of him. 

 

He turned to face the room, his neutral expression displaying nothing but a trace of serene, regal amusement. With a snap of his fingers, and a spark of green seidr, everyone suddenly heard his voice, though no sound passed his lips. It was an odd experience, somehow similar to subtitles in the mortal invention of movies.

“ _ As I’m certain you all have gathered, mortals or not, the pitiful excuse of a faulty invasion that I seemingly led, was in fact, not my intention. I was… persuaded by a creature known as the Mad Titan, a death-loving being whose designs on our universe can only be described as monstrous. He is, almost certainly more monstrous than the likes of myself- _ ” A disbelieving scoff cut off the rest of his monologue. Most of the heads in the room turned to look at a scowling Barton, who was seated next to Romanoff with his arms crossed. Banner and Rogers looked slightly nervous as to what the archer may say, perhaps setting off a murderous Asgardian rage, from not only one, but two so-called gods.

 

“You want to call yourself a monster? I hate to ruin your self-hatred-y bubble of pain and desolation, but I think out of all of us, you may be the least monstrous. And before you heatedly interject,” Barton raised a hand to stop Loki from speaking. Loki himself had jerked a hand forwards in an abortive gesture, which was halted by the interruption. He slowly returned his clenched fist to his side once more. “Please remember that I spent two days stuck inside the scepter with you. I dunno if that created some sort of mind link, or whatever, but I don’t actually give a fuck. I’ve seen your memories-” At that, the trickster paled, breaking through his mask of serenity, and gripped Thor’s arm tightly. “And I know, probably better than anyone, who you are. You may not be the brother Thor remembers, but you have never been a monster. You have been through a very, very shitty ordeal. I won’t tell everyone here the details, because I’m pretty sure that I’d get thrown out of a window, and I don’t have a flying suit so I wouldn’t survive that. But it was enough to make you talk, to break seven centuries of self-imposed silence. It’s a motherfucking wonder that you haven’t given up, that you still fought back. So yeah, maybe I hated you, and I doubt we’ll ever be soulmates, but I, and probably always will, respect you. And when you do leave, to finish the business I know that you really want to, just let me help you. I want the Other dead, and I will do almost anything to ensure that that happens. Jesus Christ, Loki.”

 

By the end of the emotionally loaded speech, everyone was stunned silent for a minute. Romanoff’s eyes had narrowed, and she looked thoughtfully between Loki and Barton, who had in that time, stood up and was now standing only a few feet away from his former master. Banner was sitting up straight in his chair, hands balled in tight fists, looking a bit on the green side, though it didn’t seem directed at Barton nor Loki. Dr. Bruce Banner had experience with monstrous things. Stark’s reaction was similar to Banner’s, though his eyes were closed, and he lacked a green tinge. Captain Rogers was looking at his hands, his face pale. 

 

Loki simply clenched his jaw, so hard Thor was certain he would break it.

His hands wrung into each other, a nervous trait he had inherited from Frigga. His eyes, the most expressive feature he had, the eyes that had always seemingly given away his lies as a youth, for they told a tale of their own in their sparkling green depths. They were shining with pain, isolation, anger, hatred, acceptance, grief, and a million other emotions that Thor could barely comprehend. 

 

At that moment, unanimously, everyone in that room forgave Loki for everything. For an invasion that was never his idea (never his  _ choice _ ), for the actions in New Mexico and during his disastrous reign. Thor decided that when this-whatever it was- was over, he would wrap his brother in his arms and never,  _ ever _ let him go.

 

“ _ Very well, Agent Barton. _ ” 

  
  
  


They were standing in a courtyard, in a circle. Thor had witnessed his brother do seidr (magic, as the mortals referred to it, though Stark seemed unwilling to concede that it was, in fact, magic.) countless times in his millenium of life. This, seemed different than his normal tricks. Usually, Loki would wave his hand, or snap his fingers, and accompanied by a spark of magic, would be his objective. 

Apparently being a seidkonur was harder than snapping and hand gestures. Who knew? ( _ You could’ve known if you had simply paid attention, fool.) _

Loki stood from where he had been crouching, wiping the dust off his hands in a smooth, regal gesture. 

 

“ _ Very well. Everything is done on my end. Now, Avengers, you are ready? He will appear in this circle, I will slay him, and then I shall summon the Other. Barton, it is yours to do with as you please. The rest of you, _ ” he paused, glancing at Thor out of the corner of his eye. “ _ Do not interfere unless asked. I have waited far too long to accomplish this to be stopped by a mortal’s incompetence. _ ” By the time he had finished speaking, a dangerous glint had entered his eyes. Normally this was something Thor was used to seeing in his own expression, an expression of bloodlust and pure rage. Seeing it on his usually mild mannered brother, was something of a shock to the thunderer.

 

Loki curled his fingers, summoning a dagger into his hands. 

 

_ “Ek taka til maɪˈsɛlf ði ˈtaɪtən _

_ Ði einn hu hæs retʃɪd maɪˈsɛlf _

_ Rɪvendʒ koma æt pɹaɪs _

_ Hann wɪɫ peɪ wɪð hann laɪf _

 

_ Meɪ ˈmɜːsi bi ɪn Helheimr ofan ðɪs døgr  _

 

_ Ðoʊ hann dəz nɒt makligr ət“ _

 

Thor’s brother mouthed the words as runes appeared, glowing in the air in front of him. 

A flash of white.

And a purple giant stood before them all.

Thor could  _ feel _ the power radiating off of him, his presence alone almost making him sick. Thor may not have the sensitivity to the Yggdrasil’s forces that his brother possessed, but even the most daft of the Æsir would have felt this aura. He could almost feel the way his brother finched minutely, and yet still managed to raise Lætvinn, his eyes  _ burning _ .

The Thunderer watched as his little brother leaped at the titan, Lætvinn raised, his face twisted into a murderous snarl. Loki aimed for the neck, almost too fast to see-

A blur of purple. A flash of metal.

A scream, and Thor knew not from where it came-

(No, no, no, no. not  _ again-) _

By the Nine-

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hey hey heyyyy everyone!
> 
> part two of Liesmith, lets gooo fam.
> 
> haven't written part three, but we'll get there soon (i hope)
> 
> anyways, comments and kudos keep me writing, so dont be shy :))))


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